


Blame The Red Cheeks On The Cold Weather

by Liepe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Swearing, devoted school children, quidditch at night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liepe/pseuds/Liepe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco blushes a lot, Harry is adorable, and Pansy is a scheming little shit that wants devoted followers. Nothing really new here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame The Red Cheeks On The Cold Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Glassfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glassfire/gifts).



> This is for the lovely Glassfire who is brilliant and a really great friend and writes amazing stories; you should check them out, seriously u.u. I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Prompts:  
> Place: Diagon Alley  
> Thing: Rain  
> Quote: "Is that Parkinson over there with a troupe of school children at her heels? Who the hell thought that was a good idea?"
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to JK Rowling. I am doing this for my own fun, and not for profit in any way, shape or form.

“Where are these idiots?” Draco muttered, shivering under his umbrella charm as the rain fell gently down.

“I don’t know, but it was your stupid idea to meet up with Potter and his merry gang to get our school supplies,” Pansy commented, pouting ever so slightly because now she was also stuck in the rain, waiting for dumb Gryffindors that had no consideration for time.

Draco mumbled, “Yes, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Promote house unity and all that crap.”

“Mmm,” Pansy hummed, smirking at him. “If you say so, but I know the real reason why we are standing in this miserable weather.”

“Oh really?” Draco asked in complete sarcasm, giving her a highly sceptical look.

“Uh huh.” Pansy nodded, grin growing wider in mischievous glee. “It’s because you want to see Potter.”

“I do not!”

“You do!” crowed Pansy. “You have this major crush on him, and you get all shy and stroppy and aww, you’re cheeks are going red!” Pansy poked Draco’s lightly warmed cheeks, snickering when he batted her hand sharply away.

“They’re red because of the cold,” Draco muttered in defence, pushing his face further into his scarf in obvious embarrassment.

“Right, of course,” Pansy mockingly agreed with him. “You know, if you don’t eventually tell him, I'm going to.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn't dare.”

Pansy just grinned innocently back, which, let’s be honest, wasn't fooling anyone. “And while we are talking about Potter, don’t you think I should have a devoted fellowship like he has by now? One that follows me everywhere and obeys my every command. Like humanized house elves.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Then go find some Hufflepuffs or something.”

“Mmm, that’s not a bad idea,” Pansy mused.

They lapsed into comfortable silence; one busy contemplating on how to enslave people legally while the other cursed their luck in trusting useless Gryffindors. The rain hit the cobbles of Diagon Alley with heavy splats and the school children and parents rushed around trying to get all their supplies quickly for the new school year. Draco sighed softly and cast another _Tempus_ charm, glaring at the numbers that were telling him what he already knew.

 _Potter is so dead when he finally arrives_ , Draco thought angrily. _Crush or no crush_.

And Draco could admit, in the full comforts of his mind where no one will ever find out, that he has a tiny, little, _microscopic_ crush on Potter. One that came to develop over the past few weeks after Potter had returned his wand and they agreed to attempt to be civil to one another. They met up for coffee or a drink at a pub a few times and surprisingly came to be friends. This was the unforeseen downward spiral for Draco with his feelings for Potter, because those feelings that were once anger, jealousy and hurt turned into fondness, respect and maybe something more.

And it was those feelings that led Draco to suggest they get their school supplies together for their upcoming 8th year at Hogwarts. Which Draco was cursing with much regret, because Potter was so late.

“Bloody finally,” Pansy muttered and Draco had to agree with her as they watched a trio hurry towards them.

Potter’s hair was plastered to his forehead, making him look like a scrawny, moronic, drowned cat. His clothes stuck to him in heavy wetness and his glasses had annoying little drops on them; Draco wondered if he saw anything or just followed the bushy blob that would be Granger. Idiot probably didn’t cast an umbrella charm until he was completely soaked.

“Sorry we’re late,” huffed Granger, face flushed red from the obvious exercise.

Potter shot Draco a sheepish smile, breathing also laboured and cheeks tinged pink. Draco looked away in embarrassment, irritated at himself for still finding Potter cute in his drowned state.

Draco sniffed in annoyance. “You should be. It’s bloody freezing out here.”

“And these boots were new.” Pansy pouted, dearly hoping that they weren’t ruined by London’s piss poor weather.

“Well, we’re here now,” muttered Weasley, obviously not overly happy about being there at all. Draco wasn’t too pleased either but over the past couple of weeks, they’d grown to tolerate each other, for Potter’s sake more than anyone else’s.

“Yes, well,” Granger continued. “I’ve made three different lists for the supplies we need, thinking it might be quicker and easier if we split ourselves up, is that okay?” Everyone nodded in agreement. “Right, I’ll go with Pansy, Harry and Malfoy will go together and Ron, you can go by yourself.”

“What! Why?”

“Because you’re the one who made us late,” Granger informed him with a stern look as she handed him his list.

Weasley pouted but took the page and just mumbled a sullen, “Fine.”

“Whipped,” Draco coughed, smirking when Pansy snickered.

Weasley threw them a glare but dropped it when Potter clapped him on a back with an apologetic smile. “Sorry mate.”

A couple a kids sprinted by, gleefully stepping in puddles and goading each other in what was clearly a race. Draco curled his lips in distaste when some of the splashes landed on him, lifting his page up a bit so no water could get on it.

“Actually,” Pansy said in a distant voice. “Granger, you can go with Weasley. I have to go somewhere else first.” Draco frowned at her, wondering what she was up to.

Granger blinked in confusion but nodded. “Okay, then we’ll all meet at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in an hour and a half, yes?”

“Yeah sure,” Pansy said absently, plucking the list from Weasley’s lax hands. Before Draco could demand what she was doing, Pansy was already walking down the wet cobble stone. He had half a mind to go after her but it was at that moment that Potter put his warm hand on Draco’s shoulder and gave him that goofy smile that Draco loathed so much because it just made him look adorable.

“Should we head out as well?” he asked, eyes crinkling a little. His hand burned even through the thick fabric that encased Draco’s shoulders and he half convinced himself it was so warm because the weather was cold. Quickly he wrenched himself from Potter’s grip and hurriedly walked down the path, looking downwards in hopes it would hide his blush.

“Of course, come along, Potter.”

“Yeah, but Malfoy, you’re going the wrong way,” Potter pointed out, catching up quickly to Draco and matching his fast pace.

Draco scoffed. “Potter, I do believe I’m the one holding the list, so I am going in the right direction.” Draco waved the piece of parchment as proof of this statement and Potter’s idiocy.

“Okay,” Potter conceded. “But we’re in charge of the books and _Flourish and Blotts_ is that way.” Potter jerked a thumb behind him.

Draco paused in his steps, frowning as he took in his surroundings and the items on the piece of paper in Granger’s neat, readable handwriting. Potter was right, damn it, but there was no way in hell Draco was going to admit that. So instead, he told the very obvious lie.

“This is a short cut.”

**OoO**

It was definitely not a shortcut.

The walk to the bookshop would take an extra twenty minutes since they basically had to travel in a circle. Draco thanked Merlin that Potter didn’t point out this fact but instead went along with him, shoes staining with grime and dirty rain water. There were a few people gaping at Potter as they made their way down the narrow lane, a few coming up to him to say thank you or to ask for autographs.

“Should have worn a disguise,” commented Draco, watching a little girl run back to her mother, holding a signed paper to her chest.

Potter hummed in agreement. “Should have; I always sort of forget about me being actually famous.”

“Only you Potter would defeat He Who Must Not Be Named and expect not to be treated with adoration and fans.” Draco rolled his eyes heavily and both continued to walk in comfortable silence for a while.

“Why don’t you say his name?”

“What?” Draco asked, startled by the question.

“His name is Voldemort.” Draco felt his body give an involuntary jerk at the word, looking away from Potter’s pointed stare. “It’s just a name, Malfoy; he’s not coming back just because you said it three times in a bathroom mirror. And if he does,” Potter added cheerfully. “I’ll just defeat him again for you.”

“My hero.” Draco deadpan and walked a bit faster. He was grateful when Potter didn’t bring up the topic of the Dark Lord again.

**OoO**

“The rain has stopped,” Potter commented cheerfully as they were half way there, cancelling his umbrella charm.

Draco looked up, sticking a hand outside the charm, and saw there were still clouds but instead of the dark menacing grey of before they were now lighter in colour. He cancelled his charm as well when his hand turned up dry.

“Thank Merlin, the rain was getting annoying,” Draco sneered, stepping around puddles carefully. He stopped when he realised Potter was no longer next to him, turning around to find that the idiot was nowhere to be seen.

“Bloody Gryffindors,” muttered Draco in irritation, retracing his steps and looking into shop windows for unruly black hair and a dopey grin.

He spotted him by a Butterbeer stand, smiling kindly at the tender and taking two cups from her. Potter turned around, grin growing bigger when he spotted Draco standing there, waiting impatiently for him.

“Here,” he said when he got closer, holding out one of the steaming cups which Draco took gingerly. He could tell his cheeks were going red from the gesture, feeling annoyed at Potter’s stupid smile and his hair that was starting to curl around the edges as it dried and his tattered Gryffindor scarf that was more than a bit frayed at the ends; just everything about him. Potter was a constant irritation in Draco’s life.

“Thanks,” Draco muttered grudgingly, blowing into the cup and watching the visible steam move with the air. It was easier to do so than to look at Potter, Draco was already blushing like a love-sick Hufflepuff, no need to make it worse by looking into what was the practically the sun when Potter smiled.

“Shall we keep moving?” Draco asked after a while, starting to feel a little awkward standing there.

“Sure,” Potter agreed, throwing him a teasing smile. “Lead the way, oh master of the map.”

Draco sent Potter a withering look. “Shut up.”

He walked forward, stubbornly ignoring Potter’s amused snickers as he step into place beside Draco.

Drinking their Butterbeer, they made an unplanned detour to look in the window at the latest broom. The FireBolt 2.0, in all its shiny, sleek glory. It was magnificent and Draco can only imagine how to would move in the air.

“Do you think we would be able to play Quidditch this year?” Potter asked thoughtfully, face almost squashed against the glass as if that would help in him trying to get a better look.

Draco sighed wistfully. “Unlikely, it would be unfair on the other years.”

“True, but we can still play informal games. Round up as many players and just have fun.”

“I’ll still kick your arse, proper game or not, Potter.”

Potter smirked. “I would love to see you try, Malfoy.”

“Then it’s a deal, when we get back, we’ll have a game.”

“At night.” Potter grinned widely at this, stupid green eyes bright with excitement.

Draco frowned in confusion. “But that would make the game harder and more dangerous.”

“Scared Malfoy?”

Draco’s eyes immediately narrowed at Potter’s teasing tone. “You wish.”

“Good. And you have to wear your pyjamas,” he added, walking away from the window with a broad smile.

“What?” Draco demanded, hurrying to catch up to an amused Potter. “Don’t be absurd, we are not playing in our pyjamas.”

“Of course we are, we can’t have a Quidditch game at night and not wear our PJs.”

“But, Potter -”

“I’ll take that,” he interrupted, plucking Draco’s empty cup from his lax grip. Draco immediately blushed at the slight hand contact that was made when Potter’s fingers brushed against his, gaping slightly at his retreating back.

“So, _Flourish and Blotts_ , yeah?” he asked innocently once he had disposed of the cups.

“Whatever, Potter,” muttered Draco, cheeks still tinged pink as he walked past him. “I’m still not doing your dumb Quidditch game in my pyjamas.”

“Yes, you are.”

“ _No_ , I’m not.”

“I think you will.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“We’ll see,” Potter sang, a pleased smile on his stupid face.

**OoO**

“Merlin, give me strength,” muttered Draco when he saw Potter trying to carry all of the books by himself with a little frown of determination. Draco quickly hurried towards him, rescuing the tilting pile just before they toppled over.

“It’s absolutely no wonder why you weren’t placed in Ravenclaw,” Draco commented drily, smirking when he saw Potter’s cheeks turn slightly red.

“Shut up, I just wanted to help.”

“Yes, well, I have arms just as capable as yours; no need to be a hero here, we can easily share the load. Or.” He paused for effect, giving Potter an exaggerated look of wonder. “Here’s a novelty thought, why don’t we use our magic like wizards and, I don’t know, shrink them so we don’t have to lug twenty books around Diagon Alley?” He rolled his eyes at Potter, muttering as he took out his wand, “Really, it’s no wonder why.”

The books were shrunk and fitted snugly into a bag that _Flourish and Blotts_ provided, which Draco took charge of since he didn’t trust Potter with it.

“What the hell?”

Draco stopped walking when he heard Potter’s mumbled question, voice pitch low in genuine confusion and slight terror, and when Draco turned to see what he was looking at it really was no wonder why.

“Oh, dear Merlin.”

Pansy was proudly walking down the cobbled street not far from them, a group of dutiful school children following close behind her. She had her head held high, boots making sharp ‘clip’ noises with every step, and in all appearance, she looked like a queen.

All that is missing is a bloody crown, Draco thought dazedly, not believing she actually managed to find a willing enough following but maybe he should have.

"Is that Parkinson over there with a troupe of school children at her heels?” Potter asked with disbelief clear in his voice. “Who the hell thought _that_ was a good idea?"

Draco sighed. “She did. She was inspired by your fan club, believe it or not.”

He would smirk at Potter’s face of the horror that statement caused, but he was too busy trying to will away a headache that was just starting to form. Damn you, Pansy.

“Hey Draco, Potter,” called Pansy, once she had spotted them. And what comes out of her mouth next makes Draco really sad that casting the killing curse gets you sent to straight to Azkaban, because Parkinson really deserves it.

“Have you two finally confessed your pathetic feelings for each other?”

“What!” both of them sputtered, eyes wide in shock.

Draco felt his cheeks immediately turning red and hot, mortification burning through his body and making his heart thump so loudly he was sure the Giant Squid at Hogwarts could probably hear it.

Pansy sighed obviously and loudly at that response, clearly disappointed, and turned towards her loyal subjects. “See, this is why I’m ruler and they are not. Watch and learn, darlings, as the lovely Pansy solves everything.” She then spun back towards them and Draco was highly tempted to take a step back when he saw the dark and determined expression on her face.

“Potter,” she barked, making him jump in surprise at her harsh tone. “You obviously like Draco and Merlin knows he likes you just as much, so ask him on a bloody date because that boy is too much of a coward to act on his feelings. So please, for the sake of everyone’s sanity – mine more so – just do it.”

She then whirled away, telling the troupe of children that she still has things on the list that she needs to complete and wasn’t she just brilliant, their dutiful “Yes Miss Pansy” still hanging in the air.

“Uh,” Potter said intelligently, breaking the silence that encased them, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Let’s just go, Potter,” muttered Draco, burying his face deeply into his scarf and refusing to look at him. He set out towards the direction of the Weasley’s joke shop, wanting this day to end and hoping everything was just one, big, hellish dream, but knowing it really wasn’t.

“Wait, hold on,” Potter called, catching up to Draco’s determined walk.

“What?” bit out Draco, no longer wanting to be in Potter’s presence anymore, embarrassment still eating away at him.

“You didn’t tell me where you wanted to go for our first date.”

Draco immediately lurched to a halt, head jerking towards Potter, blinking his eyes in disbelief before narrowing them. “You better not be fucking with me right now, Potter, or so help me Merlin I’ll-”

“I’m not,” he interrupted, a small smile tugging at his lips, green eyes soft with such emotion that a lump formed itself in Draco’s throat. “I would never.”

“That’s good.” Draco coughed, trying to talk around the knot which was making it hard to speak. “Good to know.” He carried on walking, a tiny grin making its way onto his face which he didn’t bother to will away.

 “I like Greek.”

“What?” Potter asked in surprise, shooting a slightly baffled look towards him.

“I said I like Greek, if you were wondering where to take me on Tuesday.”

Potter beamed brightly, and when Draco snuck a glance at him, it quite literally took his breath away.

“Greek it is.”

**Bonus**

“I still can’t believe I’m doing this,” muttered Draco, sulking with his arms crossed over his green silk pyjamas, heating charm firmly in place as they waited for everyone to arrive.

“You’ve said that before, Malfoy,” complained Weasley, rolling his eyes heavily. Draco sneered, a sharp resort on the tip of his tongue about Weasley’s old broom and his ghastly orange pyjamas when Pansy cuts in.

“What I can’t believe is that you managed to get Granger to referee the game.”

Weasley grinned at that. “All we had to do really was mentioned how this would promote house unity and she was sold.”

They all glanced where she and Potter were busy working with a spell that was similar to a Lumos Maxima but instead of light just emitting from their wands, balls of it hung in the mid-air. Granger was doing the casting while Potter, on his broom, floated them up and positioned them properly so that the field was safely lit up.

Other Eighth Years were soon arriving, along with some Year Sevens and a handful of Sixes, all in different houses with some carrying broomsticks and others carrying flags, all wearing their PJs.

Draco couldn’t help but feel disbelief at all of this, even more so when he saw Hagrid walking past covered in different coloured face paint in an attempt to support all the houses. It was utterly mad how everyone agreed this Potter’s stupid idea, everyone was insane. Draco included.

“You’re going to fall off wearing those,” commented Potter, now standing next to Draco, having now finished with the lights. He glanced down at Draco’s choice in pyjamas, a smile never leaving his face.

Draco scowled. “I wouldn’t have to worry if you didn’t force me into this.”

“Scared, Malfoy?” Potter raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“You wish.”

Granger called everyone to start the game; Draco grabbed his broom from off the ground and followed his boyfriend to the centre of the field. He got into position with the Ravenclaws and other Slytherins, while Potter took his with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

Granger went over the rules in a clear voice that was magically made louder by the Sonorus spell, and Draco couldn’t help but look around at everyone. He glanced at all the ones hovering on their brooms and the others that were gathered in the Hufflepuff stand, a large group of Hogwarts students all clad in pyjamas to play and watch a Quidditch game at night and Draco shook his head in wonderment.

_This is utterly ridiculous._

But glancing towards Potter, hovering across from him with a pleased grin spread across his stupid face, Draco couldn’t help but be glad he agreed to this.

**Author's Note:**

> The Quidditch match was largely inspired by [this](http://biillciipher.tumblr.com/post/134412439291/murphcooper-ok-but-hear-me-out-quidditch-games) tumblr post.


End file.
